


Her vermillion grace

by Little_Meowy



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Gen, Poetry, Third Person POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 10:30:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6953026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Meowy/pseuds/Little_Meowy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A poem about Madame Red which highlights how tragic a life she lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her vermillion grace

**Author's Note:**

> The second thing that happened during my 'I feel poetic' thingy.  
> I really love Madame Red, more so since that one episode where we find out about her life. Since then I knew I had to write something just about her. So, this happened.

Here comes Angelina, full of grace and beauty  
Who fell for the man her sister was to marry  
Hiding away her heartache, she looked the other way  
But her heart only started bleeding, listening to what people had to say

Her sister was the perfect Spring rose, coloured an innocent pale pink  
And her husband a magnificent blue Raven (so perfect wouldn't people think?)  
Her red hair she again began to despise, and with tears in her eyes  
She asked, is this how it had to be?

Here comes Angelina, full of grace and remorse  
Whose parents tried to hold her back from her dreams by force  
'Practice medicine?' they screeched 'You are not a man!'  
So she went off alone with the thought that she'll do all that she can

She followed her words, and set out to learn  
Her hard work payed up, her fire started to burn  
But, fate had it so that she was vested, to do what she detested  
She could only ask, is this how it had to be?

Here comes Angelina, full of sorrow  
The grace that she had upheld came down with the morrow  
Her sisters mansion, with her nephew oh so dear, stood ablaze in smoking flames  
Down went her carriage, and she was left with no one to blame

The doctor told her that never again a child can she conceive  
She was alone, with even her loving husbands death to grieve  
With her happiness dead, and her anger shed  
She could only ask in sadness, is this how it had to be?

Here comes Angelina, full of grace and resentment  
Bringing down her knife on those who desired her immoral treatment  
With a red reaper by her side, she slayed those that lacked aware  
Of the precious gifts that they threw away, without a thought to spare 

Jack the Ripper, people called them, to her it made no difference  
Right and wrong blurred in her vision, to her a matter of indifference  
Her nephew caught her in her act, she couldn't kill him despite her pact  
She could only ask as she died, is this how it had to be?

Here lies Angelina, full of grace and peace  
In a coffin, decked in white, for her life had now ceased  
She was called Madam Red for a reason, her darling nephew knew  
Red was what suited her most even in death, not white, green or blue

With a million rose petals flowing towards her with the breeze  
Her nephew laid on her a splendid vermilion dress to put her soul at ease  
Of her sufferings she left no trace, people only remembered each moments grace  
Oblivious they wondered, is this how it had to be?


End file.
